The Opening of Hearts
by Charlottepriestly
Summary: Miranda finds her husband cheating on her, and now more than ever needs Andrea to assist her on a more personal level. With the stress of Runway, an upcoming divorce, her distant children and her improper feelings towards Andrea, Miranda needs an escape. Andrea provides just that.
1. Coming Together

COMING TOGETHER

Miranda Priestly sat on her very expensive love seat in her study on a quiet Friday evening. The proofs she had been going through lay abandoned on the small coffee table before her, and her hands instead clutched a crystal glass filled with some very strong whiskey. She rarely indulged, but tonight was an exception. Stephen was currently on the top floor of her house groping some twenty-year-old blonde. Miranda snorted. How clichéd. She had come home early this evening, with the intention of taking a warm bath and relaxing after a week from hell, but the second she walked through her front door she knew something was wrong.

The girls had left after school with their father for the weekend, and Miranda was looking forward to some peace and quiet. If Stephen decided not to argue tonight, that is. As Miranda had ascended the stairs, there was a thud somewhere in one of the top floors. Intrigued and a little weary, Miranda decided to see if Stephen was home early too. But she was not prepared to encounter the sight that greeted her.

On the third floor, Miranda was about to call out her husband's name when she heard it. A moan. A _woman's_ moan. Followed quickly by the tell tale and quite disgusting, animalistic grunt from Stephen. It was clear what was happening in his room. Approaching his door, Miranda would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been so angry when she saw the idiot hadn't even bothered closing his door. Through the gap, she was able to see her husband's naked back as he kneeled on the bed, and before him, on her hands a knees, a young female body that cried out and threw her blonde head back.

Miranda, enraged and humiliated, silently descended the stairs to the ground floor and hid in her small study at the end of the corridor. She paced for almost 30 minutes before sitting down in her love seat. _How dare he? How_ dare _he humiliate me in this way?_ Was she really such an awful wife that her husband would have a mid-life crisis with some young, Barbie girl who probably had breasts firmer than rocks? Miranda fumed, but she knew she would not even confront him about it: she would simply file for a divorce and hopefully not talk to him ever again.

Not knowing what to do, she began going over some proofs from the latest shoot. She needed to take her mind off the subject, or a relaxing evening would become the complete opposite. But working was good. Working was safe.

Only 10 minutes after she had began to work, however, she realised that she was barely paying attention at all, and that in fact she had not made a single correction to any of the photos. With a frustrated huff, Miranda stood and went to her liquor cabinet. Seeing her favourite (and strongest) whiskey, she poured herself a large glassful and sat back down again, bringing the bottle with her.

She should have seen this coming, really. Stephen had cowardly informed her that he wanted a divorce while she was in Paris for fashion week more than two months ago. She winced when she remembered that night: the way Andy had looked at her, her big almond eyes showing such understanding and compassion. It was never the same after that night. Andy had seen her with her walls down, and now their work dynamic had changed completely.

Stephen had regretted it. When she was back to New York, Stephen had told her that he hadn't meant any of it, that he wanted to stay with Miranda and that he would do anything to make their marriage work. Not wanting a scandal, and not wanting to hurt the girls, she had agreed to give their marriage another chance. She snorted.

 _That worked out wonderfully._

She could not tell how much time has passed, and she was sure the bottle had been full when she had poured her first glass. How much had she had already? Her head felt fuzzy and she was quickly heading towards complete and utter drunkenness. She stood to go put away the liquor, but when she heard the usual rattling of keys and her front door creeping open, she couldn't help but hold her breath as her heart sped up.

...

Andrea Sachs had had one hell of a week. Work had been absolutely terrible, with her boss ordering a re-shoot of Dolce and Gabbana for the latest Autumn issue and firing a total of 5 people. To make matters worse, Nate had finally moved his things out of her apartment. _Took him long enough._ He had gone back to Boston almost two months ago, and barely two weeks after he'd arrived he had met someone else and was now in the process of moving in with her. Which is why he phoned Andy up only three days ago demanding she let him get his things. Andy, of course, had no objections. He had been a complete unsupportive idiot to her since she'd gotten her job at _Runway_ , and had been a total jerk towards the end of their relationship. Now, he played innocent, claiming she was the guilty one for their break up and thus tainting her friendship with Lily and Doug. God, even her parents were on his side.

Now, completely rid of a disapproving boyfriend, Andy felt like she could finally relax again in her own home. Things were starting to feel okay again. Doug was coming around, apologising for taking Nate's side so rashly, and Lily seemed to be on the same path, and Emily had (almost) forgiven Andy for Paris and their relationship was now much better than it ever was before. But most importantly, Miranda seemed to appreciate Andy's efforts more. Since Paris, things had changed between them.

Andy had found Miranda crying. _Crying_. No make up, no perfect hairstyle in place, no breath taking, expensive clothes on her body. Just Miranda wrapped up in a silky bathrobe and with what looked like a broken heart. Andy had listened to Miranda's words closely, had taken every little detail of the woman in. And that is when Andy saw Miranda as truly human. A person who had feelings, who had a heart, who breathed air, just like everyone else. A person who was in pain. Although Andy had a feeling it was more on behalf of her daughters rather than her failed marriage. The bastard never deserved her anyway.

Since that night, Andy couldn't help but notice new little things about Miranda: small details that allowed her to see the woman beneath the Dragon Lady persona. The way her voice often softened when she was pleased about something, or the way the corners of her eyes would crinkle just slightly when she found something amusing. But her favourite was the way she sometimes bit the side of her mouth _just so_ to keep from smiling. This rarely happened, of course. Andy had only seen it twice: once when speaking with her girls on the phone, no doubt Caroline had made a particularly smart comment or other, and the other time just last week when Andy had answered something especially witty at Emily's sarcastic comment about Andy's clothes. Miranda had been sitting on her desk working and Andy was about to enter the woman's office when Emily had, as usual, snarled something about Andy's appearance. Andy hadn't even taken her eyes off her boss when she answered the rude comment. And she had seen it. The Miranda Not-Smile. Andy didn't even remember what Emily had said, or what she'd answered back. All she remembered from that moment was the sight of Miranda hiding an amused smile, and feeling warmth spread to every single cell in her body.

Andy knew she should not feel this way towards Miranda. This was her boss. Her female, married, twice her age, icy boss that could render men to tears and could tear you apart with a single comment from her sharp tongue. _I am in so much trouble. I am absolutely fucked_.

The town car slowed to a stop, and Andy realised that she had arrived at Miranda's house.

 _Speak of the devil._

Andy quickly got out of the car, dry-cleaning and Book in hand, and waved to Roy as she ascended the steps. She made quick work of opening the door and left the dry cleaning and book in their respective place. She was turning to leave when she heard the breaking of glass and then-

"Shit!"

Andy froze, stunned. _Did Miranda just curse?_ Before her brain could warn her that she was entering dangerous territory, she quickly turned back around and saw a light at the end of the hallway.

"Miranda? Are-Are you okay?"

"Andrea? Be quiet! Get in here." Miranda harshly whispered loud enough that Andy could hear it.

Andy had a bad feeling about this, and Miranda sounded unsettled. Even though the fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, Andy silently and slowly walked towards Miranda's study. Dreadfully, she entered the room and almost gasped.

Miranda was on her knees on the floor, picking up large pieces of glass with her bare hands, which were trembling just slightly. Her hair was tousled, as if she's run her hands through it several times, her feet were bare, and her blouse pulled out from under her skirt, wrinkling slightly at the bottom. To say Andy was shocked was an understatement.

"Miranda," Andy said, softly closing the door behind her, "are you okay? Here, let me help you."

Andy proceeded to do just that, helping Miranda off the floor and into the love seat, then carefully taking the glass from her outstretched hands and placing the pieces on a corner of the coffee table. Kneeling back down on the floor next to the broken glass, Andy reached into her bag and got out a packet of tissues, cleaning up the largest pieces of glass from the floor and mopping up the liquid.

"Thank you."

Andy froze for the second time that night. It was a whisper that Andy almost missed, but she had heard it, and Andy was so shocked that she turned around to face her boss, not even bothering to stand up.

Miranda looked down at her second assistant, literally kneeling at her feet, and felt her heart grow lighter. She took a deep breath and looked away from those mesmerising brown eyes, but Andy had seen the teary blue orbs, and she saw the way Miranda was wringing her hands slightly. Andy knew this sign well: Miranda was upset by something. She had seen it that night in Paris, and another time in the car on the way to the hospital after Cassidy had broken her arm after falling from the monkey bars of the school play ground.

"Miranda, are you okay? What's wrong?" Andy whispered soothingly, as if dealing with a frightened deer.

"Nothing is the matter, Andrea." Miranda repressed the need to cringe, hearing her hoarse voice sound weak and a little drunk.

"Please, I-I want to help."

At that, Miranda snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Of course you do. You always try to help, don't you, Andrea? You are so naive and innocent, but surely even you must know there are things one simply can not do?"

Andy remained silent after that, not really knowing how to answer and clueless as to how to deal with an emotional Miranda Priestly. She stood up and sat on the settee opposite Miranda, placing her hands over her lap and waiting, although for what, she knew not. Miranda swallowed thickly, not looking anywhere near her assistant. Her beautiful, kind, compassion- _Stop!_ She took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Just go, Andrea." Miranda waved her off in dismissal, but her voice seemed fragile, her gaze was cast downwards, and her right hand came up to toy with her necklace, which usually meant she was overthinking.

"No."

Miranda looked up sharply at that, and her gaze turned cool as she regarded the young woman sat across from her. Andy had no idea what she was doing. She could easily get fired for this, but it hurt too much to see Miranda this upset, and she cared more about Miranda's well being than her job. Miranda seemed very upset, and very drunk if the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table and her disregarded appearance was anything to go by.

"No?" Miranda arched a brow, looking at Andrea with a bored, yet cold expression on her face. The Ice Queen's walls were slipping into place, and Andy hated it.

"No, Miranda. You are upset, and drunk, and I am going to take care of you. Even if you don't want to tell me what's wrong, I am not leaving until I'm sure you are feeling better and will come to no harm."

There was a pause, and Andy didn't even breathe as she waited for Miranda's response. Just as Miranda opened her mouth to retort what was likely a harsh, sarcastic remark, she was interrupted by the sound of heels coming down the stairs, walking across the entrance, the front door opening and then closing again. Miranda, seeming unimpressed, looked at her wristwatch and let out a dark, humourless, icy chuckle.

"One hour. Stephen really has outdone himself this time." Miranda looked at Andrea, a contemplative look on her face before something akin to defeat crossed her blue eyes. It broke Andy's heart. "Very well" she whispered, "You want to help me, Andrea? Get me out of here. Get me out of this house."


	2. Opening Up

Andy could not believe it. Surely she had fallen into some kind of alternative dimension? She was sat on a spacious, comfortable sofa in the middle of a large suite at the Ritz hotel. But that was not the most surprising part. No, what made this situation so incredibly bizarre was that Miranda Priestly was sat at the other end of the couch, her legs curled up beneath her, and wearing very _very_ casual clothes, by La Priestly's standards anyway. She wore black slacks and a loose beige cashmere sweater the fell off her left shoulder (something Andy was trying very hard not to stare at). Her hair was far from her usual styled coif, and her make up had been removed, leaving the skin underneath to show its natural smoothness. _I bet it's soft to the touch_. Andy regarded the woman sat a few feet from her, and felt the urge to pull her into a tight embrace. Of all the things to be doing, Miranda currently sat with a far away look in her eyes, her perfect teeth nibbling at her bottom lip, and a glass of red wine clutched in her hand so tightly that her knuckles were white.

They had been in this hotel room for almost an hour. At the townhouse, Andy had waited for Miranda in the study while she silently ascended the stairs. When she had come back down with what looked like an overnight bag, Miranda had led the way out of the house and into the night. Roy had been waiting for Andy to deliver the book, so they got in and drove off.

"Where to?" Roy had asked.

"The Ritz." Miranda answered, looking out the window and basically ignoring Andy's presence.

Andy had looked at her, surprised. Why was Miranda going to a hotel? Did she expect Andy to stay with her? Had something happened with Stephen? Andy was full of questions, but she was intelligent enough to keep quiet lest she got kicked out of the driving vehicle into moving traffic.

Once they had gotten to the hotel, Miranda demanded a suite with two rooms. The hotel staff scurried to achieve the demands of the Ice Queen, and within a few minutes Andy and Miranda were led to a beautiful suite with two rooms that were separated by a large living area. _Am I supposed to stay here with her? Oh God_ , Andy had thought, _how am I going to survive this night?_

Now, however, Andy pushed aside her fear and her confusion. She could clearly see that Miranda needed somebody, and it made her incredibly sad to realise that, if Andy Sachs, Miranda's lowly assistant, was the only one sharing this room with Miranda, then it meant that the fearful Dragon Lady had nobody to turn to at a time of this kind of distress. She was alone, and perhaps she was okay with that most of the time, but right now, Miranda needed someone to keep her company. To keep her grounded. So far, She hadn't even talked, or let go in a rant full of rage, or burst into tears on Andy's shoulder. All she did was sit there, looking absolutely lost, and drinking the wine she had ordered from room service.

Andy, always wanting to help, sat quietly at the other and of the long couch, because she felt it was what Miranda needed right now. She just needed to know that there was somebody - _anybody_ \- who was still there, next to her. Andy had helped herself to some wine at Miranda's nod when she had reached for the bottle, and now twirled the dark liquid in the glass. She had a million questions she wanted answers to: most importantly, what had made Miranda break down like this. Andy had never seen her drunk, and it would also be the first time she had seen Miranda in tears had it not been for that night in Paris.

Andy wanted to laugh. This situation was very similar to the one back then. Except Miranda had talked, had expressed her feelings and her fears. Andy wanted that again. She wanted Miranda to trust her and to be able to open up to Andy, so that she could help her. Andy discreetly looked at the clock on the wall. 11:30 pm. They had been sat here in complete silence for more than an hour. The only thing they had actually done since walking into the room was call room service, sit on the sofa, and refill their glasses from time to time. Well, at least Miranda had changed and made herself comfortable. Maybe Andy wasn't staying after all? She didn't have a change of clothes.

Being unable to stay silent any longer, Andy spoke.

"Miranda-"

"He is having an affair."

The silence changed from comfortable to freezing after Miranda's whispered confession. Andy was shocked, not knowing exactly whom Miranda was talking about, though she had a sneaking suspicion who the 'he' in question was.

"Who? Stephen?"

"Of course it's Stephen." Miranda drawled, her speech now slightly less coherent than before. The alcohol seemed to be quickly getting to her enough for her words to slur slightly. "The idiot forgot to close the door. Or keep quiet for that matter." Miranda let out a short, quick laugh that sounded cold and anything but amused. With her eyes cast down and her body curling in on itself, she looked more defeated than Andy had ever imagined Miranda could possibly be. "She's some twenty year old blonde who has perfect skin and a pair of breasts that'll keep him happy for a long while."

Andy gaped. That last comment almost made Andy blush, hearing those words from Miranda made her feel a little warmer than usual. _Miranda_. _Who the fuck would cheat on Miranda?_ _God, if I ever had her I would- No, no, don't go there Andy._ Besides, nobody had more perfect skin than Miranda, and certainly nobody could have a better pair of-

"You can go if you like, of course."

"What?"

"You do not have to stay here."

Andy's heart clenched painfully at the thought of leaving Miranda. She could not do it. Not now. Besides, Miranda had said this with no emotion whatsoever in her voice or her face, just complete indifference and coldness, but Andy had the feeling that she did that because she was feeling vulnerable and did not want to admit that she needed somebody. Miranda usually hid behind her walls when she was feeling emotions ranging from anger to defeat. Andy had seen it happen in Paris, and since then had noticed it on a daily basis.

"No." Andy said, determined. At this, Miranda finally looked at her.

"No?" she repeated. She couldn't believe what Andrea had just said. _Dare I hope? How could she possibly want to stay with me?_

"I'm not going anywhere, Miranda."

Miranda looked surprised at this, looking at Andy as if she had never seen her before, the way she had looked at her on her first interview while Andy gave her little speech. Andy couldn't help it: she took both their glasses and set them in the low table in front of them. Then, she slowly moved her body across the couch and neared Miranda, sitting closer to her. Andy tentatively took one of Miranda's hands in her own. _I knew it. Her skin is as soft as silk._ She was glad Miranda did not move back, or flinch, or lash out at her for daring to touch her. Andy didn't know whether she could have survived a second longer if Miranda had moved away from her. Miranda, however, was too sad, _or too drunk_ , to care at the moment. Having physical contact with someone actually felt... good. Wonderful even.

"Miranda, I want you to understand this: I am not leaving you. Ever. I am staying right here and I will do my absolute best to provide you with anything you need. No matter what that idiot did to you, you are not alone. I am here."

There was a long silence after that, where Andy felt her heart beating wildly in her chest and felt her lungs burning from lack of breath, and Miranda's body was giving similar signs. She could not believe her assistant, _dear Andrea_ , was saying those words. They were too good to believe. _Everyone else has left you, you old fool. There is no way Andrea will keep to her words. Who'd stay with you?_ Miranda shook her head sadly and looked at the beautiful sight of her hand encased in Andrea's own.

Andy felt fear settle in her gut. Had she gone too far? Had Miranda realised the depth of her feelings? She meant every word she said. How could she ever leave Miranda? _Fascinating, beautiful, breath-taking Miranda._

"Nobody ever stays." Miranda whispered brokenly, and, to her dismay, unwanted tears sprung to her eyes, clouding her vision and burning in humiliation.

Before her tears could fall, however, she felt strong arms wrap around her and pull her towards a warm body. Andrea was hugging her. _Hugging_ her. And it was the most wonderful feeling she had ever experienced. She couldn't remember the last time anyone hugged her apart from her girls. The young woman smelled of spring and lavender shampoo and _Andrea_. Miranda could feel herself melting into the embrace, and finally gave in, burying her face in Andrea's neck, letting the tears fall and holding on for dear life.

Andrea, for her part, was struggling to maintain her composure. She could feel Miranda's breath on her neck, her soft breasts pressing against her own, and the smell that was purely Miranda. Her silky white hair caressed Andy's cheek, and she could feel the editor's hands clutching at the back of her shirt. Holding Miranda was the most amazing experience of her life. The soft body under her fingertips trembled slightly, and she knew Miranda was crying. _Right. Get a grip! She needs your_ _support_ _right now. Enough of this nonsense_. Andy began to run gentle circles on Miranda's back, trying to comfort the woman in any way she could.

They sat there, hugging, for a long time, or maybe it had been mere minutes, but Andy felt she was in paradise, and Miranda was feeling something very similar too. If it weren't for the newfound trouble in her life involving a certain cheating husband, Miranda would have considered this moment one of the happiest of her life, aside from the birth of her girls. As Miranda drew back from the embrace, she heard Andrea inhale deeply, and wondered if she had made the young woman uncomfortable by showing such deep emotions, and if their working relationship was tainted forever. But when she looked at Andy's face, there was gentleness in her dark brown eyes, and a small, shy smile curling her full lips, and Miranda thought she had never seen a lovelier sight than her Andrea so close to her, the young woman's arms still loosely wrapped around her frame. Somehow, Miranda knew that Andy had meant what she'd said: that she would not leave her. Not yet anyway, and that was enough for Miranda.

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment longer, Andy's heart shattering at seeing the redness and puffiness tainting the blue orbs from crying. And yet, despite Miranda's broken appearance, Andy thought she had never seen Miranda more beautiful than at this moment.

Miranda broke their stare, drawing her eyes downwards and away from Andrea's intense gaze that felt more like scrutiny. _I must look like hell_. I need to do some damage control. _Control, yes. Get this situation under control._

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologise, Miranda. You have done nothing wrong. I'm the one who is sorry to see you this way. I-I wish I could help you and take away your pain."

Miranda felt her breathing catch at hearing those words. Andrea's eyes were so full of sincerity that Miranda did not doubt her honesty. Her heart felt about to explode, and she felt warmth spread out from her middle towards the very tips of her toes. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, and lacking air, Miranda removed herself from the embrace and stood, taking a deep breath to try and calm her uncontrolled emotions. She felt her feelings slowly spiralling into chaos.

Andy instantly missed her heat, and had to suppress a whimper of loss as Miranda turned to look down upon her. The older woman caught the unease in Andy's eyes, and the sudden tension in her shoulders, but she also saw the warmth in the woman's eyes, and the quivering smile she gave as she waited for Miranda's next course of action. Miranda cleared her throat lightly, not trusting her voice and fearing it may be hoarse from crying. She despised crying, especially in front of people, but, as usual, Andrea had made herself an exception.

"I'm going to bed." Miranda told her, and indeed her voice sounded weak and rough, even to her own ears. She cringed. Resisting the urge to let down her defences and throw herself in the arms of her Andrea again -when had she become _her_ Andrea? - Miranda waited for the assistant's response.

"Oh." Andy tried not to look disappointed at that. Miranda, even in her still tipsy state, saw through it, and was confused as to why Andrea would want her to stay. _Nobody ever wants me to stay. Usually, people can't wait to have me out of their sight_. "Okay. Goodnight, Miranda."

Miranda stood there for a moment longer, gazing down at the young woman, her heart still beating too fast for her comfort and her mind reeling with everything that had happened that evening. With a deep breath and a straightening of her back, she nodded and walked to her door as gracefully as she could muster. She could hear Andrea moving, the clinking of glass, and steps retreating in the other direction of the suite. Just as she opened her door, Miranda turned around and found Andrea almost at her own door, ready to go to bed as well.

"Andrea."

Andy turned instantly at Miranda's calling, and waited with bated breath as the woman seemed to carefully contemplate her next words.

"Thank you."

Stunned, Andy nodded and smiled weakly. Miranda's voice had been soft and quiet when she said those two words, but Andy felt utterly elated by them, and she could feel her heart speed up.

"A-Anything, Miranda."

"Goodnight."

And with that, Miranda quickly turned and went into her room, snapping the door shut behind her.

"Goodnight." Andy whispered into the empty room, quickly losing control of her feelings.

Miranda Priestly had confessed a personal problem to her. Miranda Priestly had let Andy hold her tight. Miranda Priestly had cried on her shoulder and held on tightly onto Andrea. Miranda had looked absolutely beautiful, letting her guard down and looking at Andy as more than an assistant. But most of all, Miranda Priestly had apologised, and thanked her, and then wished her good night, and when she had said those three simple things, Andy felt Miranda had meant them, and that they were so much more than simple politeness, but actually meant much more. Her heart soared in her chest.

 _Shit_. Andy thought, still frozen in place in the middle of the suite.

 _Shit, shit, shit._


	3. Back Again

**AN:** So sorry for the late update, I had some trouble with my account. Thank you so much to all who have commented so far, your kind words motivate me to keep going with the story. I'll be updating more frequently, because I've actually written about 15 chapters already, so the wait won't be too long! Anyways, thanks for the wonderful reviews, they make my day. Enjoy!

...

On Monday morning, Miranda strode into her office, her face firm, and a scowl gracing her mouth. She had had the weekend from hell, and she was not about to hide it. Word had already gotten out that the Dragon Lady was seething fire, and people were nearly hurling themselves out of her way. Before she reached her door, she threw her heavy coat and bag onto Andrea's desk, not even faltering in her step. She did not look at her second assistant, forcing herself to ignore her presence. _At least for the time being._

Andy sighed when Miranda entered her office and left her sight. Her boss had decided to completely forget about their night at the hotel. Not only did she revert back to her cold, unapproachable self, but Miranda was also completely ignoring her.

When Andy had woken up early Saturday morning, she had quickly pulled herself together as she dressed in the clothes she had worn the day before. After patting down her hair into something akin to presentable, Andy had left her room in search of Miranda. Only to find that the woman was already gone. Andy had nocked on her door, and after receiving no answer had called reception to ask if they had seen her. To Andy's dismay, the answer to that was yes, Miranda Priestly had been down to reception about two hours before to pay for their suite, and then had promptly left. Without a word to Andy.

After that, Andy had heard absolutely nothing from her boss. She received no calls during the weekend, which was something very rare from Miranda. Andy had spent all that time with a painful knot in her stomach, and her mind was constantly troubled with thoughts of the silver-haired woman.

Andy listened as Miranda picked up her phone and started snarling to whoever the poor soul at the other end of the line was. Andy cringed. Miranda was in a terrible mood - _more so than usual_ \- and Andy had no idea how to handle the situation. Just a mere 58 hours before, Miranda had been crying on her shoulder, holding on to her, letting her in. Andy missed it. She felt the loss of the woman keenly as the editor persona rose in all her terrifying glory, making life a living hell for everyone around her.

Andy didn't know anything about what had happened to Miranda once she had gone home on Saturday. Had she confronted Stephen? Had she asked for a divorce? Had she already kicked him out? Andy hoped she had done all those things. She doubted Miranda was one to hold back, and Andy felt what seemed like deep satisfaction at the thought of Stephen finally getting what he deserves. But Andy had no way of knowing any of this for sure. She couldn't very well go up to Miranda and ask her. _Hey, Miranda, did you fight with him or just kicked the asshole out without a word?_ Andy snorted. _Yes, and then she would throw me out the window onto the street bellow._

Miranda wasn't even talking to her. As in, at all. All orders for her were passed through Emily, who got quite a satisfied smirk every time it happened, thinking Miranda was giving Andy the silent treatment for something she had done wrong. But Andy hadn't done anything wrong. Not really. She had tried to be supportive for Miranda, had tried to comfort her in any way she could, and after that heartfelt 'thank you', Miranda's walls had shut back into place, making Andy feel completely useless and empty. It's like she had seen a glimpse of something beautiful, radiant and full of light, only to then be submerged into complete darkness. Andy had several theories for why this had happened.

First theory: Miranda had only used Andy for her own benefits, not really caring that it was Andy she was leaning on as long as it was a warm body that offered comfort. Andy didn't very much like this idea, because she was desperate for Miranda to trust her, Andy Sachs, on a very personal level. _Yeah, as if Miranda actually trusts anyone._ Second theory: Miranda felt that Andy reminded her of a moment of weakness and just needed a little time away from that, which Andy was okay with, really. As long as it would help Miranda, Andy was sure she'd endure anything. _I was there during her breakdown, I'm sure she doesn't need a reminder of it so soon afterwards. It's understandable_. And third theory: Miranda was humiliated. She regretted opening up to Andy and showing herself so deeply. And somehow, this thought broke Andy's heart more than anything else she had ever experienced. More than the death of her grandparents, more than her first boyfriend cheating on her with her high school nemesis, more than Nate leaving her and almost instantly seeing another girl. The thought that Miranda wished she hadn't invited Andy into her hotel room, opened up to her, shed tears upon her shoulder, made Andy sick to her stomach.

Andy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _Get your shit together, Sachs. You've got work to do_. It was true. Her schedule was pretty full today, and most of the things she had been instructed to do were errands (some which were quite pointless) outside Runway. _Away from Miranda_. But if there was anything Andy was good at, it was being Miranda's best assistant, and there was no way Andy was going to let these feelings get in the way of her work. If she could help Miranda at all to make her life easier, she would damn well pour her very soul into it.

..._...

The week went on, and it was torture for every single person working under Miranda. Even Emily was starting to lose her cool, indifferent persona, and had resorted to using her "I love my job" mantra more and more as the week progressed. Andy, for her part, was in agony over the Miranda Problem, not to mention living on coffee. She had not slept well since Friday night, as thoughts of Miranda plagued her mind whenever she was unoccupied.

At night, Andy would close her eyes, and she would see piercing blue ones staring back. She could hear the soft, commanding voice in her ears, and could almost smell the woman's perfume drifting on her nose. If Andy tried very hard, she could still feel the woman's soft body beneath her hands from when she had held her, and the feeling was so painfully missed that Andy's fingers would tingle with the desire to touch the woman again. Andy would lie awake for a long time, tossing and turning, unable to keep the older woman from her thoughts, and when sleep came it would be filled with dreams.

In some dreams, Andy would see Miranda with Stephen while he touched her. Touched her neck, her thighs, her hips, her breasts. Meanwhile, Miranda would look straight into Andy's eyes and tell her, with a voice filled with contempt, "You could never have me. You will _never_ have me. I'll never be yours, I will be someone else's." And then she would turn to Stephen, whose face suddenly disappeared into a blank, anonymous face, and Miranda would reach up and kiss the mystery man, gripping his clothes like she had gripped Andy's during their embrace, and she would press herself ardently into his body, giving a long, low moan as the man answered greedily to her attentions. Andy would often wake from these dreams crying, her heart feeling like it had dropped five floors down her apartment building and despair twisting her gut.

Other dreams, however, she was the figure at the receiving end of Miranda's ministrations. She was the one who grabbed Miranda's hips, the one who ran her fingers through white soft hair, the one who was kissing those wonderful lips that sent shivers down her body, the one who dragged her lips and her teeth down that creamy, perfect neck. She was the one who made Miranda moan. Andy would wake from these dreams breathing hard, almost gasping for breath, and with a deep, desperate desire gripping at the very core of her being. Sometimes she would even wake with her hands halfway down her pants. These dreams had gotten more and more frequent since the night at the hotel. No, this was not the first time Andy had these very inappropriate dreams about her boss. After dreams like these, Andy would crawl out of bed and drag herself into a cold shower, giving up on the hope of getting any more rest.

By Thursday afternoon, Andy felt she would go crazy from no contact whatsoever from Miranda. The woman didn't look at her, didn't speak to her, and no longer took her to previews or drove with her in the town car. Andy was sat at her desk, firing off emails and rearranging Miranda's schedule when she felt her heart literary skip a few beats.

"Andrea."

Andy, frozen in place, could not believe her own ears. Miranda was calling her. _Oh thank God, finally._ Not wanting to annoy her boss by making her wait, Andy got up on shaky legs and rounded her desk, sharing a worried glance with Emily, who answered by raising her eyebrows as if saying, "Don't ask for pity from me, you must have done something to deserve this." Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, she entered the crystalline office.

 _My God, she's beautiful_. Andy couldn't take her eyes off Miranda as she walked to stand before her desk, notepad and pen gripped in shaky hands as she waited for instructions. Miranda looked up at her and ran the rim of her glasses over her lower lip. _Jesus Christ, why does she have to do that? Kill me, oh, please kill me. Let me die. I cannot possible live through any more of this torture._ Miranda waved at her to shut the door, and Andy quickly moved to obey. When she faced the woman again, she couldn't help swallowing hard through her suddenly dry throat. Miranda kept staring at her, a thoughtful look on her face as she tilted her head in her usual manner. Finally, she straightened her back and spoke.

"Make a one night reservation for tomorrow at a hotel that isn't the Ritz. Get me a suite with two rooms."

Andy couldn't breathe. She stared at Miranda in shock, her mouth hanging open slightly and her eyes wide. She willed her heart to stop beating so hard and her stomach to loosen the suddenly tense knots she felt.

"O-Of course. I'll do it right away."

Miranda focused her gaze back to her laptop, and Andy knew it meant dismissal. She didn't know what to think: did Miranda want Andy to come along this time as well? Or maybe she wants to work out her marriage? Maybe the room was a romantic stay for Stephen and her? The thought made Andy's stomach clench, and an image of Stephen groping and manhandling Miranda's gentle frame made her feel sick. Just as she was about to open the office door and make a run for the bathroom, Miranda called her name. Turning to face the woman, Andy was sure her knees would soon give way. _Oh please,_ she silently begged her, _please let me go. I can't stand the thought of him and you-_

"Bring some clothes for yourself this time."

Andy's brain froze, and she lost her breath. Had it not been for the fact that she was standing up and very much alive, she could have sworn her heart had given up after that instruction. _It's me. It's me she's taking with her. She doesn't regret opening up. She needs me again. Oh God, it's me. Not him. Me._ Unable to form words, Andy nodded and quickly left the office, ignoring Emily's curious and somewhat accusing stare and rushing straight to the ladies' room.

Once in the privacy of the bathroom, Andy looked at herself in the mirror as she tried to get her erratic heart to calm down before she suffered cardiac arrest, and she carefully began to control her harsh breathing into calm breaths. Once her brain was able to function again, she closed her eyes and thought tomorrow night couldn't come soon enough.

 _This woman will be the death of me._

...-...

Friday night found a very anxious Andy sitting in a large sofa that commanded the large living room of the suite at the St Regis Hotel. It was 10 pm, and the room was lit warmly by the soft glow of two lamps that stood on low tables on either side of the sofa. Her right leg was shaking nervously while she bit her lip, waiting for Miranda with her hands grasped tightly on her lap. Andy, as Miranda had ordered, had called room service to bring a bottle of red wine while Miranda went to her room to change into more comfortable clothes. She had been there for a while now, so Andy, desperate to have something to do, went to her own room. She pulled out her best loungewear clothes from her overnight bag and quickly changed. She didn't even remove her make up before quickly returning to her place on the couch.

Less than thirty seconds after she sat down, Miranda came out of her room, wearing much the same thing she had worn the week before, except this time the sweater was a dark grey to go with the black trousers. Like last time, she had taken her make up off, as well as her jewellery and her shoes. Andy's insides melted at the sight.

Miranda didn't notice Andy's reaction to seeing her, and instead sat down on the other end of the sofa. Andy quickly reached forward and took the wine from the coffee table, quickly filling a glass for each with the dark liquor. As she handed one glass to Miranda, their fingers brushed, and Andy felt electric shocks shoot up her arm and into her centre at the contact. Miranda looked into Andy's eyes then and quickly took her hand away, glass clutched firmly in her hand. Andy watched as the older woman took a sip, closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. Oh God, help me. Andy's muscles clenched at the sight and sound Miranda made, and watched in awe as all the tension seemed to leave the woman's shoulders as she leaned back against the couch.

Andy took a sip of her own, and her eyelids fluttered. It tasted divine. No wonder Miranda had reacted that way, especially after the week she must have gone through. They sat in silence, relaxing into the comfortable cushions and quickly emptying the bottle of wine.

"I'm divorcing him." Miranda said after almost an hour of silence. Andy wanted to cry at the news. _Yes! Take that you bastard!_ , Andy thought gleefully, trying very hard (and thankfully succeeding) in hiding a smile. She quickly pushed her joy aside when Miranda started speaking again. _Right. Miranda. Focus. This can't be a nice experience for her, can it?_ "He finished moving out yesterday morning, and my lawyers think the divorced should be final in a few months."

That explains why yesterday afternoon she had asked Andy to make the reservation. She needed this. Not knowing what to say, Andy asked, "How are the girls?"

"My girls." Miranda said, almost thoughtfully, and she looked sad, broke, which, oddly enough, is something she hadn't seemed when talking about divorcing her husband. Whenever she talked about Stephen, she used a cold, distant tone, like she didn't really care about him anymore. "My girls didn't take it well. They didn't particularly like Stephen, which is something I only found out a few days ago, but they still feel betrayed. They think it's my fault."

Andy closed her eyes at the bitter tone in the other woman's voice. She could not even imagine what Miranda must have felt when her own children made her responsible for the divorce. The twins meant everything to Miranda. Andy had not truly realised this until that night in Paris, and it hurt her to think that the girls had hurt Miranda like this.

"I tried to explain it to them, but they are right, in a way. There is no point denying it. I drove Stephen away, just like I drove Greg away. And everyone else in my life, really. If I were different, it would have worked out with Stephen, and my girls wouldn't have to suffer because of me."

Miranda's little speech angered Andy for some reason. She felt angry at all the people that had deserted Miranda. She felt angry at Stephen for throwing Miranda away like he did. She felt angry at the twins for not supporting their mother, who loved them more than anything in the world. She felt angry at herself, for being unable to take her pain away, and for the fact that she would never get the chance to make her happy, and love her the way she deserved to be loved. _Can't she see how beautiful she is?_ Before she could filter her words, she spoke.

"That's bullshit, Miranda."

The woman looked at Andy, stunned. Andy didn't know whether it was at her use of language or at her fierce, passionate tone, but Andy didn't really care at the moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said that's bullshit. It is not your fault Stephen is an idiot. It's not your duty to change any aspect of yourself just to satisfy him and fit into his idea of 'the perfect wife'. If Stephen couldn't accept you for who you are, couldn't _love_ you for who you are, then it's his loss, and it's his fault. Not yours."

Miranda gaped, actually _gaped_ at Andy. Her eyes had gone wider, and she seemed frozen in place. Andy tensed, waiting for the Dragon to unleash her fury at Andy for overstepping into things that did not concern her. But the scathing words never came. Instead, Andy watched as Miranda looked away from her, took a sip of her wine, and lost herself deep in thought.

Nothing else was said for the remainder of the night.


	4. Close

Later that night, Miranda stared up at the ceiling of her hotel room. Her mind was reeling over the words Andrea had said. Goodness, she had not expected that. It was Stephen's loss for not loving her properly? _I am quite sure that people are lucky not to love me._ She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Andrea had seemed genuine, if the fierceness in her dark eyes and the passion filling her voice was anything to go by. What's more, Andrea had seemed angry, although why exactly Miranda could not begin to guess. _Does she really care? Why would she care?_ Usually, when the 'Ice Queen' was having a problem, people kept an even bigger distance from her, and she couldn't really blame them. Miranda would not often be there for others, and if anyone came near her they would probably end up getting damaged in some way or another. That's just the way she was. She damaged people, and hurt them, until they eventually left. _It's no wonder you're a lonely, foolish old woman._

But Andrea was different, of course. She always had been. The week before, Andrea had come into her study after hearing her glass breaking, and then had offered Miranda help. The older woman was sure that, had it been anybody else, they would not have thought anything of it, and would have raced out the door. Anyone else definitely wouldn't have come to a hotel with her, and held her while she cried.

 _God, this is too much._ Andrea's words replayed in her mind over and over again.

 _Couldn't love you for who you are..._

 _His loss..._

 _Not your duty to change any aspect of yourself..._

Andrea was clearly too naive for her own good. Did she not know what Miranda could be like? It really came as no surprise that nobody could stay with her. It must be draining and exhausting to put up with her. She knew she was not an easy woman, but she loved deeply, and cared a lot, and tried her best to make the one she loved happy. Granted, she hadn't actually loved Stephen. Not really. But she had loved Greg, and she loved the girls, and if things didn't get under control she would soon find herself loving Andrea too.

 _Loving Andrea._ The thought didn't scare Miranda as much as it should, and it didn't send her into panic mode like she would have expected. Miranda thought that being able to love Andrea would be absolute bliss. The young woman was the only person in Miranda's life who seemed to care. _But why would she care? Perhaps she's only using you. Oh God, maybe she will use this and go to the press, or maybe she wants to get ahead, or- Stop it. That isn't who Andrea is. Andrea wouldn't do that. Besides, nobody could fake such compassion._ Miranda wanted desperately to believe Andrea was honest, but doubt still lingered at the corners of her mind. _Has life turned you into such a lonely creature that you can no longer even accept kindness without expecting the worst?_

Miranda sighed and rolled over. When sleep finally came to her, she drifted away with thoughts of her Andrea.

...-...

The next morning, Andy woke up extra early. She didn't want to miss Miranda before she left, so she was up at 6 and hopping into the shower. By 6:30, she was ordering breakfast from room service. Scrambled eggs, toast, fruit, orange juice and centre-of-the-sun-hot coffee.

When she put the phone down, Miranda's door opened.

Andy looked up, and immediately lost her breath. Miranda stood there in a beige blouse and what looked like her usual black slacks, although these accentuated her curves more. Her make up was natural, with only some concealer and blush, and her heels were already in place. Her hair, however, is what drew Andy's attention. Miranda's hair was wet. She had obviously taken a shower and had combed it back without drying it. She didn't look as relaxed and comfy as she had last night, but the image Miranda created was enough to send Andy's heart into overdrive.

Miranda stopped just outside the door, noticing Andy staring, and raised an eyebrow in challenge and something akin to amusement. Andy quickly averted her eyes and swallowed, trying to control her erratic heartbeat.

"Um, good morning, Miranda."

Miranda grunted a response and went to sit on the couch.

"I've ordered breakfast, in case you were hungry. Eggs, toast, fruit and coffee. Unless- unless you planned on leaving before breakfast. I would understand if you wanted to-"

"Stop talking. Breakfast is fine. Does your room have a hair drier?"

"Oh. Yes, it does. Do you want me to fetch it for you?"

Miranda nodded, and Andy rushed to do as told. When she came back, Miranda took it from her and strode back into her room.

Andy waited sat on the sofa, just like last night. She felt nervous. Did Miranda want to have breakfast with her, or would she send Andy away? Maybe she wanted some time alone. Andy understood, but she selfishly hoped Miranda would still need her around.

A nock on the door, followed by a male voice calling "Room service!" prompted Andy to move and go into assistant mode. She let the hotel worker in, tipped him, and sent him away. Andy moved the large breakfast to the table that was placed some distance behind the couch. She went about setting the table, and just as she was finishing, Miranda came out, her hair back to its usual style, with the front lock curling endearingly over her left eye.

Andy straightened and waited for Miranda to sit before sitting herself. The older woman didn't make eye contact with the brunette, and instead began to dig into her eggs and toast. She only just realised she had missed dinner yesterday, and was absolutely famished. Andy followed her lead, digging into her own eggs and then starting on the grapes that were in the bowl of fruit.

They ate in a relatively comfortable silence, both enjoying the delicious food and slowly relaxing in each other's presence. When Miranda finished, she checked her phone for the first time that morning. Worry knotted her gut when she saw three missed phone calls from her girls, two from their father, and a text from him that was sent at 9:30 last night. Her phone had died sometime around 8 pm yesterday, and she hadn't bothered charging it until she fell asleep last night. She had needed to disconnect from people (except Andrea) and hadn't check her phone when she had plugged it in.

Swallowing thickly, she tapped on the missed message, and felt nauseous while reading it. Oh God, she was going to vomit.

Andy heard the loud clatter of a fork hitting plate and looked up. Worry took hold of her as she saw Miranda's expression. The woman was frozen in place, looking very pale and something like fear in her eyes. Her fingers gripped her phone so hard that her knuckles had gone white, and she seemed to be shaking.

"Miranda?" Andy whispered, concern lacing her voice.

Miranda didn't respond. Instead she placed a trembling hand over her eyes and put down her phone. After a moment like this, she pushed herself up, using the table to help her. On shaky legs, she slowly made her way to the couch on a daze. Andy quickly stood and followed after her, sitting next to her and looking at her with concern. The woman seemed shaken, and she had never seen Miranda in shock before.

Before she could help it, tears were streaming down Miranda's pale cheeks, her body now visibly trembling. Andy didn't know what to do. She had no idea what had happened, but didn't feel Miranda could answer even if asked. When Miranda placed the back of a shaking hand to her lips in order to stifle a sob, Andy quickly moved closer, arms outstretched.

Without thinking, Miranda leaned into the embrace as Andy enveloped her in her arms. At last, a sob broke through, and she completely broke down. Andy was shocked. Miranda had cried on her shoulder once before, but they had been silent tears, and her body hadn't convulsed like it did now. Andy felt her own tears coming quickly. She could not stand to see Miranda in such pain. Whatever had happened, it had completely broken the woman in her arms. Had something happened to the girls? At that thought, worry clenched her stomach painfully, and she felt absolutely useless to help Miranda. Not knowing what else she could do, she began rubbing her hands soothingly across the woman's back, wishing she could take the pain away as the soft body beneath her shook with sobs.

The minutes passed - or hours. Andy wasn't sure how long they had been hugging - and Miranda seemed to calm. Now, her tears were silent, and still she held onto Andy like she would die if she let go. Andy let her, of course. _Anything for Miranda._ The young woman was still incredibly worried, but Miranda seemed to read her thoughts, because her voice soon came from where her face was buried in Andy's neck, and it sounded hoarse, faint, and weak.

"The girls have left me."

And then she began to cry again, her tears falling onto Andy's skin. The young woman was frozen in shock. _No. No, no, no, please. Not this. Anything but this._ Out of all the horrible things that could happen to Miranda, this was one of the worst. Andy leaned them backwards until they were resting against the back of the sofa, and Miranda curled her legs underneath her, dropping her shoes off along the way. She leaned her body into Andy, and the brunette though they could be cuddling if it wasn't for the fact that the woman was trembling in agony beneath her fingertips, and the fact that Andy felt a pain in her chest from what Miranda must be feeling.

After a long while, Miranda went still and almost limp in her embrace. Andy couldn't help herself and reached up to touch the woman's hair. Miranda relaxed even further, and Andy took it as a sign to keep going. So they lay there in their embrace, each deep in though while Andy's fingers soothingly ran through silky white hair. After 10 whole minutes of silence, Andy felt the need to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Miranda." Andy whispered.

Miranda did not answer, and Andy realised that her breathing had deepened and her arms no longer held on to Andy, but were loosely draped around her waist. Miranda had fallen asleep.

...-...

Miranda began to stir an hour later. Andy had gently laid them further back, and had draped the blanket that had been over one arm of the couch over both their bodies. While Miranda slept, Andy had kept touching her hair and softly caressing the woman's shoulders, trying not to think about what it meant that Miranda had fallen asleep in her arms. _She's exhausted. It doesn't mean she trusts me that much. She probably couldn't help it. It doesn't mean anything._ Miranda's face was still buried in her neck, and her long breaths made Andy feel at home. _I could get used to this. Why does it feel so right?_ Andy had half sat-half laid on the large sofa with Miranda almost draped over her, thinking about Miranda's situation and her own feelings towards the older woman, and Andy had reached a conclusion. Andy would stay by Miranda's side no matter what. If Miranda needed someone to talk to, Andy would listen. If Miranda needed someone to show her affection and support, Andy would do just that. If Miranda was horrible towards Andy and started lashing out, Andy would take it so Miranda could vent. No matter what, Andy would do it. Because Andy knew that no matter what Miranda could be like, Andy would never be able to abandon her. And even if it hurt Andy to be this close to this woman and not actually _have_ her, she would do her best to be what Miranda needed.

Miranda slowly came into consciousness. The first thing she noticed was gentle fingers running through her hair, and a warm hand running over her back in soothing circles. _Andrea._ Those hands belonged to Andrea. _Only she can smell this good. Only she would touch me like this._ The other thing she noticed was that she was heavily leaning on the other woman, and that she had her face buried in Andrea's long neck. _God, please let me stay here forever. I want to stay here until I die._ But she knew she had already imposed on the younger woman. She had no idea how long she had slept, but she couldn't imagine Andrea being very comfortable.

Actually, Andy _was_ comfortable. Her legs ached a little, but she had moved them around enough while Miranda slept so as to not cut off the blood flow, and had also stretched her muscles whenever they began to hurt. Andy noticed the change in Miranda's breathing, and wasn't sure what to expect from the other woman. _Will she murder me?_

Miranda slowly straightened, blinking the bleariness from her eyes and slowly moving away from the embrace. She didn't look at her assistant, although she could feel the woman's eyes on her. Arching her back, she stretched and let out a little sigh when she felt her back popping.

Andy nearly chocked. She was sure Miranda had heard her sharp intake of breath. If the woman had indeed heard it, she gave no sign of it. Instead, she settled back onto the couch and leaned her head backwards, looking up to the ceiling. Andy tried to ignore how her elegant neck stretched out invitingly. She could barely contain herself from the urge to lean in and kiss it.

"What time is it?" Miranda asked, eyes closing.

"Almost nine."

Miranda's eyes shot open and she gave Andy and incredulous look.

"I've been asleep for a whole hour?"

"Yes. You must have been exhausted. Did you not sleep well last night?"

"No." Miranda was not about to go into detail over how the woman before her had plagued her thoughts and dreams. And the bout of crying hadn't helped in her exhaustion either. She felt weak, and her eyes were burning unpleasantly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

At that, Miranda leaned her head back again and shut her eyes once more. After taking a deep breath, she began.

"When I checked my phone this morning, I had several missed calls from the girls and their father. Greg had sent me a text, so I read it, thinking something had happened to my girls. Apparently, they have decided to live with their father for a while. Yesterday evening, while I was still at work, they packed up their things in a fit of anger, called their father, and demanded he take them to Connecticut with him and his girlfriend. They tried to reach me before they left, but my phone was out of battery and I had no idea they were planning to leave. This angered them more and so they left without telling me. Greg didn't want me to worry, but was not going to say no to the girls living with him, so he explained everything with a text. They left last night and will come and get the rest of their things sometime next week."

There was a long silence after that, in which Miranda tried not to cry again, and Andy regarded the older woman sat beside her.

The girls had left her. Miranda's treasures had chosen their father and his girlfriend over their mother. They had not even talked to her about it.

"They said it was too much for them. They needed some time away from me and away from the press. They don't want to be here when news of the divorce gets out. And I can't blame them. For any of it. I can't blame them for not even wanting to say goodbye."

That last sentence is what triggered Andy. She had been trying hard not to cry, because what was happening to Miranda was painful even for her, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how the older woman was feeling right now, and Andy loved her and wanted her to be happy and- _God._

Miranda opened her eyes when she heard a shuddered intake of breath. Looking at Andrea, she was shocked to see the woman crying. She was wiping the tears away and looking downwards, but the trails of tears already tainted her cheeks and Miranda felt her heart constrict painfully at the sight.

"Andrea?"

"I'm sorry." Andy sniffed, still not looking at the older woman. No doubt she was making a complete fool of herself. "I just-It's just so unfair Miranda. I wish- I wish I could do something. I..."

Andy trailed off as Miranda touched her hand. Looking up, Andy saw a small smile - a true smile - gracing the woman's beautiful lips. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but there was warmth shining in them as she looked at Andy. Slowly, Miranda linked hands with the younger woman and squeezed. Andy looked down to their hands, because she couldn't actually believe Miranda was touching her like this. This wasn't the same as the hug. No, this was _Miranda_ touching _Andy._ This was Miranda giving Andy comfort.

When Andy looked at Miranda's face again, only one thought passed her mind: _She is so beautiful. I have never seen anything more beautiful than her and she is smiling and she is beautiful._

"Andrea, you have done so much already."

At the words, Andy felt more tears coming, and she desperately wiped them with her free hand, tearing her gaze away. Thank God neither of them had worn mascara this morning. This was a teary day, which was something very rare. Especially for Miranda.

"Not enough, Miranda. Not enough."

At this, Miranda leaned forward and touched Andy's chin, urging her to look up at her again. Andy lifted her gaze to the other woman, eyes wide and heart racing at the feel of Miranda's fingers touching her skin.

"Andrea, I promise you. This is more than enough. You are the only one that can help me, and you have. You have."

Miranda felt like she was saying too much, and regretted her words. She hated making herself vulnerable, but Andrea needed to hear this. She needed to know that she was wonderful, so Miranda forgot about her pride and about her image and simply spoke the truth.

Andy was having an out-of-body experience. Miranda has just said the most beautiful words Andy had ever heard, and she could feel her heart was about to burst from her chest. She was unable to form words, so she just nodded and looked at their joined hands. Miranda's hand felt so right in her own.

Miranda noticed it and quickly withdrew, instantly missing the warmth of Andrea's skin. She stood from the couch.

"I am going to book another night here, and then I'm going to the townhouse get some work and more clothes. You are welcome to stay too."

Andy quickly stood up too, almost elated at the offer. Her feelings of impotence and helplessness were dimed when the idea of staying with Miranda registered in her mind.

"I'll stay."

Miranda smiled gently at the young woman's eagerness, and Andy beamed.

"Alright. Do you need anything from your home?"

"Yes, actually. I need to go get some work and some clothes too."

"Call Roy and tell him to pick us up. I'll drop you off and then go home. I will only take 15 minutes to get everything ready, so I'll call you when I'm leaving and I will come and pick you up on the way back here."

"Alright. Although I don't mind getting the underground."

"Don't be ridiculous Andrea, your house is on the way to mine from here, is it not?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then you are coming with me. End of discussion."

Andrea nodded in defeat, and Miranda almost sighed of relief. She needed Andrea close to her. The woman soothed Miranda more than anything or anyone else, and today she was going to need all the support she could get.

...-...

An hour later, they were back in the hotel room, each with a new bag of clothes and another bag full of work to do. The car ride to the way to Miranda's had been spent in comfortable silence, and they had each gone to their own homes to get their things. The ride back to the hotel, however, had been very different.

Andy had felt the tension in Miranda. It was clear the woman was trying to keep it together, and she sat very rigid in her seat, her face turned towards the window with an expression so cold Andy felt the temperature drop a few degrees. Clearly, going back to an empty house had showed Miranda the way it was going to be for a long while. They rode in silence for fifteen minutes until Andy could not take the feeling of uselessness anymore. Tentatively, she reached out to Miranda. Miranda caught the movement and turned to glare at Andy. When she saw the young woman's calm, understanding face, however, the glare disappeared. So she allowed Andy's warm hand to take her own, and she felt her fingers squeeze hers gently before Miranda looked at Andrea's face once more. The brunette smiled softly and tilted her head, as if saying, "it's okay. I'm here for whatever may come." Miranda relaxed into her seat, and, for the first time in her life, believed that everything would be okay as long as Andrea was by her side.

Both women set down their overnight bags in their respective rooms, and went into the living room with their work. Without even speaking, both women silently agreed to get to work, each at one end of the sofa. For hours, they worked in peaceful silence, the only sound being the scratching of pen or the typing on a laptop.

By the time lunchtime came around, they had done a great deal of work, which surprised both women, as they had both had similar thoughts about working together: _How am I going to get anything done with her sitting just a few feet away?_ But in the end it had been a very successful arrangement, and before they knew it they were calling up room service.

"What would you like for lunch?" Asked Andy as she picked up the phone.

Miranda thought for a long moment before answering.

"Pizza."

Andy looked up at her, shocked. When Miranda shrugged her shoulders indifferently, Andy laughed and nodded.

"What topping do you want?" Andy said, smiling warmly, which made Miranda quickly realise that Andrea hadn't laughed _at_ her.

"Pepperoni."

Andrea's smile widened even further, and she got a strange shine in her eyes. Andrea dialled, and Miranda stood, curiously watching her assistant, who looked gleeful and almost as if she was up to no good.

"Yes, I would like to order two pizzas for suite 314. Yes, that's fine. Yes." Andrea turned to look at Miranda over her shoulder, and her smile turned into a smirk. "Two pepperoni pizzas."

Miranda smiled then, and rolled her eyes. Of course they would have the same taste in pizzas, and of course Andy would make that fact seem like she had just discovered Miranda's deepest secret. _Honestly._

Ten minutes later, the pizzas arrived, and they sat at the dining table to eat. Andy could barely contain her laughter at seeing Miranda Priestly eating pizza with her hands and humming in delight at the first bite. When Andy opened her mouth to comment, Miranda glared at her, although there was no malice in her eyes. Andy got the message though, and decided not to tease Miranda about her unusual choice of food. The meal was spent in comfortable silence as both women indulged in the fatty food for the first time in a long time.

When they finished, they carried themselves back to the couch and, with full stomachs, threw themselves into their work. By the time Andy had finished, it was almost dark outside. Checking the clock, she was stunned to see it was already 6 pm. They had been working for almost six hours, non-stop. Andy put her laptop aside and stood, stretched her back and felt her sore muscles complain after the lack of movement for the last hours. When she turned, Miranda was staring at her. _Is that a flush?_

Before Andy could dwell on it, Miranda cleared her throat and looked back down at her laptop screen. Andy got an idea. The woman really needed to relax after this morning's trauma.

"Miranda?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

Miranda looked up at that, perking at the idea. Andy smiled, knowing Miranda so well by now she could tell basically every single gesture the woman made. Moths of studying Miranda closely really paid off.

"I'll go do it while you finish up. You don't mind me going in your room?"

Miranda waved in the direction of her room, focusing back on finishing the last of her work. Andy went into the other woman's room and was not surprised to see it was immaculate. She went through to the large en-suite bathroom and turned on the hot water. She looked around for oils and such, and smiled triumphantly when she found lavender oils and matching candles. This hotel was a five star hotel after all; of course it would have pretty much everything, including a box of matches in one of the drawers. The tub was enormous, and Andy was certain it could almost fit three adult people. While the water ran, Andy returned to the bedroom and called room service from a phone on the nightstand. She ordered a bottle of champagne and another bottle of red wine. When she went into the bathroom, the bath was almost full, so she set about placing four candles on every corner of the tub and the other two on the sink. After putting in the oils, she lit the candles and looked around, very satisfied with herself.

She turned the lights off and went back into the living room just in time to see the door shut behind a hotel employee. Miranda was stood there holding two bottles of liquor and looked at Andy with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't know which one you wanted for the bath, so I ordered both." Andy explained, knowing Miranda's question.

Miranda rolled her eyes good-naturedly at that and lifted the champagne bottle slightly. Andy nodded and took the bottle from her, opening it with a loud pop. She poured the bubbly liquid into a flute and handed it to Miranda.

"The bath is ready. Here, take the bottle with you in case you want to refill."

Miranda nodded and took the bottle, turning without another word and entering her room. As the door shut, Andy poured herself a glass of wine and flopped down on the couch, almost spilling her drink all over herself. Andy took a long sip, leaned back, and sighed. Today had been awful, but Miranda was coping much better than Andy had expected. _Then again, this is Miranda Priestly we're talking about. Nothing can beat her._ Andy sighed again and took a gulp of the wine, enjoying the soft burn as it went down her throat and pooled at her belly.

Miranda entered her bathroom and gasped. Andrea had outdone herself. The soft glow of the candles shone a soothing warm light, and the smell of lavender filled the air. Miranda set her flute and the bottle down and quickly took her clothes off. Stepping into the hot water, she let out a loud hum of appreciation. As she leaned back on the tub, she reached for her drink and took a swing. _Marvelous._ Closing her eyes, she relaxed for what felt like the first time in weeks, and all the tension left her body.


	5. Important

Hey everyone!

This is kind of important, so I hope you keep reading this.

Firstly, I would like to apologise for neglecting this story here on fan fiction. The reason for this is that I have had many _many_ issues uploading new chapters, and believe me I have sent several emails to find out what is going on with my account (I have yet to receive a response from Support Team as to why this is happening). I have tried everything to upload my documents, but they either fail to upload or they become weird numbers and figures lacking any sort of coherence. It is because of these problems that I'm writing this.

You see, dear readers, I have an account on Archive of Our Own (also known as 'AO3'). For those who do not know, this website is basically the same as fan fiction, except I don't have any problems uploading my stories. So it has been much easier to update The Opening of Hearts there. As a result, in Archive of Our Own, my story is up to 18 chapters, while on here the story has barely begun.

So, I'm asking you, if you really like my story and would like to see what happens with Miranda and Andy, I suggest you read it there on AO3 (I will leave the link down bellow for your convenience). I would also ask you to please review the chapters if you like them, and leave any criticism you may have, since I love knowing your thoughts on my story and your sweet comments make my days so much better :3

Anyways, since fan fiction won't let me update my story, I'm giving you an alternative if you wish to continue reading it :)

Thank you so so much for your patience with me and all the lovely reviews so far, and I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I love writing it!

All my love,

Charlottepriestly xx

to go to my story:

 _write on google search_ archiveofourown dot org _followed by_ /works/5848648/chapters/13480693


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